Wu Cheng-en - Journey to the West (vol. 1)

At dawn the next morning Monkey went to saddle the horse while Pig packed the luggage. Old Wang told his wife to prepare some pastries and hot water for then, after which the three of them thanked him and said good-bye. “If anything goes wrong on your journey,” the old man said, “you must come to our place.”

“Don't be so discouraging, old fellow,” said Monkey. “We're dedicated, and there's no turning back for us.”

With that they whipped the horse, picked up the carrying-pole, and headed West.

Alas! On their journey there was no good path to the West, and there were undoubtedly demons and great disasters in store for them. Before they had been going for half a day, they reached the mountain. It was most precipitous. Sanzang rode as far as the edge of a cliff, then dismounted to have a look.

High was the mountain,

Craggy the ridge;

Steep the cliffs,

Deep the valleys.

Springs could be heard,

And sweet smelt the flowers.

Was that mountain high?

Its summit touched the azure heavens.

Were the gorges deep?

At their bottom you could see the Underworld.

In front of the mountain

Were rolling white clouds,

And towering crags.

There were no end of myriad-fathom, soul-snatching cliffs,

In which were twisting caves for dragons,

Caves full of stalactites dripping with water.

He saw deer with branching antlers,

And river-deer gazing with fixed stare,

Coiled, red-scaled pythons,

And mischievous, white-faced apes.

At evening tigers climbed the hills to find their dens;

Dragons emerged from the waves at dawn,

To enter their caves with thunderous roars.

Birds flying in the grass

Rose in a flurry;

Beasts walking in the woods

Hurried helter-skelter.

Suddenly a pack of wolves ran past,

Making the heart pound hard with fear.

This is a place where caves are linked with caves,

And mountains stand with mountains.

The green of the peak made it like ten thousand feet of jade,

As a myriad clouds were piled above it like a cover of bluish gauze.

While Sanzang urged his silvery steed slowly forward, Monkey strolled ahead on his cloud and Pig ambled along with the carrying-pole. As they looked at the mountain they heard a whirlwind blowing up, and Sanzang was alarmed.

“Wukong,” he said, “there's a whirlwind coming.”

“What's there to be afraid of about a wind?” said Monkey. “It's only weather, after all, and nothing to be scared of.”

“But this is a very evil wind, not like a natural wind at all,” Sanzang replied.

“How can you tell?” Monkey asked.

“Just look at it,” said Sanzang:

“Mighty and majestic it howls and roars,

Coming out of the distant heavens.

As it crosses the ridge the trees moan,

The trunks bend when it enters the wood.

“The willow on the bank is shaken to its roots,

And flowers and leaves go swirling round the garden.

On the fishing boats gathering in nets, they pull hard on the cables;

Ships lower their sails, and all cast anchor.

“The traveler loses his way in mid-journey,

The woodcutter in the hills cannot carry his load.

The monkeys scatter in the orchards of fairy fruit,

The deer flee from the clumps of rare flowers.

“Locust trees and cedars collapse before the cliff,

While pine and bamboo in the valley are stripped of leaves.

There are stinging blasts of dirt and sand,

And waves boil on rivers and seas.”

Pig went up to Monkey and grabbed hold of him. “Brother,” he said, “this is a terrific storm. Let's take shelter.”

“You're useless, brother,” replied Monkey with a mocking laugh. “If a big wind makes you want to hide, what are you going to do when you meet an evil spirit?”

“Elder brother, have you never heard the saying, 'Avoid a pretty girl as you would an enemy, avoid a wind as you would an arrow?'“ Pig replied. “There's no reason why we shouldn't take shelter.”

“Stop talking, will you, while I get a hold on that wind and take a sniff at it,” said Monkey.

“You're talking through your hat again,” said Pig with a grin. “As if you could get a hold on a wind. Besides, even if you did, your hand would go through it.”

“What you don't know, brother, is that I have a magic way of catching winds,” Monkey replied. Letting the head of the wind pass, the splendid Monkey grabbed the tail and sniffed at it. It had rather a foul stench. “It certainly isn't a good wind,” he remarked. “It smells like either a tiger wind or a monster wind. There's definitely something suspicious about it.”

Before the words were out of his mouth, a ferocious striped tiger leapt out at the foot of the slope, slashing with its tail and rushing towards them. Sanzang was so scared that he could no longer keep his seat in his carved saddle, but fell headfirst off his white horse and lay sprawled in a witless heap beside the path.

Pig threw down the luggage, grabbed his rake and, not letting Monkey move forward, roared, “Animal, where d'you think you're going?” He went straight after it and smote it on the head. The tiger stood up on its hind legs, and with a swing of its front left claws ripped at its own chest. There was a tearing noise as its skin all came off, and then the creature stood beside the path. Just see how hideous was:

A gory, skinned body,

Round, red legs and feet.

Fiery, matted hair,

And straight, bristling eyebrows.

Four sinister steely white fangs,

A pair of glittering golden eyes.

With soaring spirits it gave a mighty roar,

A mighty and majestic shout.

“Not so fast,” it yelled, “not so fast. I am none other than the Commander of the Vanguard for the Great Yellow Wind King. I bear His Majesty's strictest command to patrol the mountain and catch a few common mortals as tidbits for him to nibble with his wine. Where are you from, monk, and how dare you wound me with that weapon of yours?”

“I'll get you, you beast,” replied Pig abusively. “You don't seem to realize that I'm not just any old passing traveler: I'm a disciple of Sanzang, the younger brother of the Tang Emperor of the East, who has been sent by the Emperor to visit the Buddha in the Western Heaven and ask for the scriptures. If you clear off, stop blocking our path, and don't frighten my master any more, I'll spare your life. But if you go on raging about like that, there'll be no mercy for you.”

Not bothering to argue, the evil spirit rushed at Pig, feinted, and clawed at his face. Pig dodged nimbly and swung his rake at the monster, who turned and fled as he was unarmed. With Pig at his heels he made for the bottom of the slope and produced two bronze swords from the tangled undergrowth there; then, brandishing them, he turned to face Pig. The two of them battled away at the foot of the hill, lunging and hitting at each other. Monkey, who was helping the Tang Priest to sit up, said, “Don't be afraid, master. You sit here while I help Pig to defeat that monster, then we can be on our way.” Sanzang, who had managed to sit up, was shaking all over and intoning the Heart Sutra.

Monkey grabbed his cudgel and shouted, “Get it.” Pig made a tremendous effort, and the monster fled from the scene of battle. “Don't let him get away,” yelled Monkey, “you must catch it.” The pair of them chased the monster down the mountain, waving the rake and the cudgel. The monster was so hard-pressed that it did a “golden cicada shedding its skin” trick. It reverted to its real form-a ferocious tiger-with a somersault, but Monkey and Pig would still not let it get away, and were hot on its heels, determined to destroy it. When the monster saw how close they were, it ripped at its chest and tore off its skin again, then laid it over a rock that was shaped like a crouching tiger. Then it abandoned its real body, turned into a hurricane, and went straight back to the path, where it noticed Sanzang reciting the Heart Sutra. Sanzang was grabbed by the monster and carried away on the wind. Poor Sanzang: